


The Golden Path

by TellMeACipher



Series: The Golden Path [1]
Category: The Golden Path
Genre: Asexuality, Assassins & Hitmen, Canonical Character Death, Dark Fantasy, Death, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Superpowers, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 21:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30078636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TellMeACipher/pseuds/TellMeACipher
Summary: In a world he doesn't recognise, Bruno must fight to survive in the grim underworld of London's darkest streets. Will he find the power to take back his freedom?
Series: The Golden Path [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2218338





	The Golden Path

Bruno glanced silently across the empty pub, eyes darting from chair to chair as hefelt the shimmering gaze of the lights stare down at him with a burning intensity. He turned around to look at the clock plastered against the cracked paint coated poorly onto the wall, and it read 10:13 in a flurry of arrows, ticking away at each second he stood there in solitude. He sighed, the weight of an underachieved work day fizzling away into nonexistence, and leaned on the wooden bar, thoughts passing through his mind at a dim pace.  
Suddenly, he felt the chilling gaze of the cold breeze grip his slender frame, holding him firmly in place as he shivered tensely. His eyes swiftly farted across the room, and he saw the doorway, open, with those thick doors slightly ajar.

"Who the hell can't shut a door?" He asked sarcastically, and wandered the path under the golden lights, weaving swiftly between the discarded chairs and tables scattered across the open floor, reaching that door with frustrated sense of relaxation. He almost slammed the door shut, but he heard a clattering sound manifest outside, beyond in the streets where he couldn't quite see from his position. He hesitated, a small hand yearning to connect with the cracked handle, and curiosity overcame instinct as desire overwhelmed his senses. Slowly, he craned his neck outside, eyes peering out into the dark outstretch of the dirty streets.

"Anybody here to rob the joint?" He muttered jokingly, stepping out into the open streets, feeling the cold embrace of the musty air wrap tightly around his body. The crisp, white shirt he wore swayed in the breeze as he glanced behind to the doorway, that small bar watching him from a distance. He looked around feverishly, watching intensely for the source of that sound in the darkness, apart from some cars that passed by in the roads off to the distance. The faint lampposts in the distance were barely helping as his eyes struggled to adjust in the grey-scale of the world around him, and he almost considered going back in the pub, but then he saw it, the source of that crash. It was a dirty fox that had knocked over a trash can, and was scrounging in the trash that filled within for some form of a midnight snack. Maybe three.

Bruno looked on disgustedly, and hurried over, eager to remove the newfound pest from the premises. He charged over, and the fox noticed immediately, leaping away from the fray as it sprinted down into a nearby alleyway. Bruno sighed dejectedly, even more frustrated than before. He didn't have the patience to chase it down, but now he had a new problem with the pest situation. His boss would not appreciate a mistake this bad.

"Well, shit," He muttered, a deep whisper, and began to walk across to the bar, stumbling once or twice as his thoughts began to race like the creature. As he reached for the door, he heard a clamour behind him, somewhere in the distance. He went to turn to see the commotion, but his sight was cut off as some black bag slipped effortlessly over his head.

He screamed, and was forced a step back by the figure behind him as they began to struggle. His thoughts pumped like bullets as his mind raced. He lifted his foot, and forced it away, mustering his strength as it connected with something behind him. The attacker shouted some mumbled profanity and slipped to the side, giving Bruno time to get the bag off. He wrenched it over his head, tossing it to the concrete as he scrambled to flee into the pub. His hand rested on the handle of the ancient door frame, and an arm forced its way around Bruno's neck, prying him away from the door as he was thrown to the ground, slamming into the concrete. He cried out, a tear forming under his eye. Prying them open quickly, he saw the blur of a clenched fist flying towards his face. Rolling out of the way, Bruno felt the crunch of the floor beside him as the dark hand beat it viciously.

"Who the hell are you?" Bruno called out as he forced himself back up to standing as another fist flew at him. Bruno swiftly stepped aside, dodging hastily, and slipped backwards as he lost his footing. Bruno caught himself and looked up, but caught a foot to his stomach as the attacker propelled themselves forwards, connecting viciously into his waist. Bruno was launched backwards, connecting with the floor as the wind was forced out of him.

"Shi.." he mumbled, spluttering, all he could bring himself to say as his breathing hardened into an unsteady song of fire and ice in his lungs, as he made a half witted attempt to breathe the fire out. The burning inside made a thousand promises of pain to come. Turning onto his arm, Bruno struggled to not throw up, and he suddenly felt the tight grip of regret on his shoulder as a hooded figure stared him down.

"I am the consequence," they spat out, a snarly rasp that shook Bruno to his core. The darkness surrounding them both granted no passage of hope in the anguished tunnel of fear, and he saw, once more, a darkened fist flying at his face. He closed his eyes and it connected with his jaw, thrashing his head jarringly to the side as a droplet of blood rested on his lip, more to come.

"And you are alone among us. An impostor of proportions you don't yet understand, but you will," they growled out, and broke their clenched fist into Bruno's face, blood spilling out of his cracked lips. It dropped him to the floor, walking over to something he couldn't quite make out at this position. He turned to his side, coughing blood out of his bruised mouth, and leaned onto his arms, desperately climbing against the floor, yearning for the slightest opportunity of hope, but he collapsed against the floor again. Once more he tried, feverishly scrambling against the concrete, until he was on his knees. Bruno cried out, the smouldering anguish within him calling out in surrender, but he would not surrender. He rose up, until he planted a weak foot onto the floor, and keeled for a moment. Calculating.

Suddenly, he felt the weight of a thick boot shatter his progress, and he flipped over onto his beaten back as he smashed yet again onto that eternal ocean of concrete. Crying out harder, tears slipped from the safety of his eyes and fell to the torrent of the floor. His shirt muddied with dirt, barely covered the waves of marks that coated his body. Blood poured from his split mouth, splashing against the floor, and he almost passed out on the spot there.

"Don't fight me. It'll make you a lot more broken on the return," they softly whispered, leaning in close as that hood brushing against the clean side of Bruno's face. He could barely make out any form of humanity within that hood, but the dim light let him see a faint smirk, hiding sharp teeth behind thin, chapped lips. The light skin contrasted heavily to the dark fabric they wore, and suddenly they backed up, inching their arms closer to Bruno's head, as he saw a plastic bag begin to crawl over his peripheral.

Bruno quickly swung his arms up, his breathing rushed as he struggled to protect himself. They chuckled softly in response, a malevolent curse that constricted his breathing further. They leaned in, straddling him as they fought tooth and nail in the close quarters spectacle.

"You are strong, child, but I am beyond strength," they snarled, forcing its slender, gloved hands closer towards his head. Bruno fought viciously to survive, but the struggle forced the fire in his lungs to burn brighter. His vision darkened as the grip on their arms weakened, and they chuckled again, returning to the dead silence they had adopted previously. Suddenly, their arms reached over Bruno's head, cutting his vision off entirely as that anguished fire soared inside bringing life to a struggling halt, and he succumbed to the void.


End file.
